Edo Sweeper
by themakeshift
Summary: A rogue ex-cop and a young art curator join forces to solve Tokyo's darkest cases.


**Edo Sweeper**

 **Case 1**

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

It was that time of the day when the busy city started winding down, the last bars local to the ordinary good folk of Tokyo lowered their shutters with a rattle, and the final subway carriages dropped off exhausted salary men and women before stationing at its terminus. One half of society readied itself for bed, as its less respectable twin rose to claim the emptied streets of the insomniac capital.

The usual drinking hole for the residents of Tokyo's seedy part of town was a quaint wooden shack called the _Onmyouden_. Tucked between the cluster of unkempt, poorly maintained buildings, the charming Onmyouden, remained largely untouched, its wooden panels and elaborate carvings surviving the ages and gentrification since the day it opened for business in the early beginnings of the feudal era by two warrior siblings.

"Omaeda, put those casino flyers back in your pocket. If I see you trying to sneak one in or even whisper a word about best chances at winning, I'll throw you out head first." Botenmaru, the Onmyouden's current barkeep, issued a threat that had clients turn their heads accusingly at the source of fault.

There were three rules at the Onmyouden: no gambling, no business discussions and no brawls. Botenmaru was a big big man. And his wrath equally as tremendous. From small-time thieves to cabaret owners, no matter how dark their lives were, how rowdy or dishonest the trades of each individual that visited the Onmyouden, all patrons respected their barman and his realm, in exchange for his warm welcome, the good-humoured twinkle in his one remaining eye, and excellent drinks.

Within these walls, Botenmaru kept them all in check where no law could, and he listened when no one would.

"Omaeda," warned an entering customer as he hung up his trench and greeted the barkeep with a short nod, "keep pissing our Dragon off and you'll have nowhere to hide from your sister."

Kyo Mibu had arrived. Black hair in windswept disarray and lips set in his customary wry smile, Botenmaru's favourite client made himself comfortable in his habitual seat - three stools from the right, at level with the barman's workspace – ready to accompany his oldest friend through a good portion of the night. He was a regular, so regular that even on days when the bar's walls were close to bursting from the mass of people, that very spot was always left empty.

A sheepish apology, followed by a few jeers and laughter at Omaeda's expense and the light tension dissipated giving way to the return of the shuffling and buzz of mildly drunken banter, arguments and general mirth. Botenmaru made two last rubs to polish the sake glass in his hands and set it down on the counter, along with an ash tray and a lighter.

"Ah, just the right set-up. You know me well," Kyo approved.

"You've cursed the seat, Kyo."

An arrogant grin. "Don't flatter me - you're being creepy, old geezer."

"Just 'cuz I wear an eye patch and can grow an _actual_ beard doesn't make me old."

"Just because I don't want to look like a space pirate doesn't mean I can't grow a beard."

Harrumphing, Botenmaru proceeded to pour the man his first drink of the night and switched topic, "Much work recently, then?"

Kyo gave a light shrug. "I've refused most of them. I'm not some lost-and-found professional. Although it's surprising how much someone would pay to find some stupid parrot."

"That's what happens when you leave the force and go rogue. Once a hero, now a jack-of-all-trades." Botenmaru sighed at Kyo's dismissive grunt, "Your Landlady is going to kick you out soon enough if you don't pay rent on time."

The chewed toothpick twitched in Kyo's mouth, "She could have done so the past thirty times, but I'm still here."

"Not gonna complain, you and your liver make up forty percent of the till."

Kyo raised a glass to that sad statement and took a slow sip of his standard poison, enjoying the gradual intensity of the lightly fruited but crisp alcohol as he rolled it around his palette.

Glorious.

* * *

It was a calm one tonight, Kyo mused as he started on his third glass, flitting in and out of overhearing random conversations in the background and going through his notes of the day's successful, albeit menial, job. In his trusty pad were scribbles of odd-jobs and phone numbers for housewives who hoped for more intimate services on top of finding evidence against their unfaithful other halves. With regards to the latter, he found no particular reason to not indulge in the extra 'work' to provide a lonely, attractive, soon-to-be-divorced client with the all the comfort he could offer. Two birds one stone for all parties.

In the middle of lighting up a cigarette, the bar fell curiously silent.

"I should very much like to converse with Mibu Kyo, please." The male voice was clear and pronunciation too refined to be anything other than from an alien to Tokyo's nightlife. More irritatingly, it reminded Kyo of the snooty kids his cousin Kyoshiro hung around.

"I am Kyo. And you are?"

"Shiina, Nozomu." Nozomu almost bit his tongue in panic as the man identifying himself as the Edo Sweeper turned a highly intimidating red gaze towards him. "You may call me Nozomu. Ah, Kyoshiro sent me here. He said you would be available to…um…talk." All eyes were on him, beady eyes in twisted faces, open-mouthed sloppy chewing, and Nozomu instantly regretted listening to his best friend.

Before Botenmaru could pre-emptively enforce rule number two, Kyo declared: "He's not a client, Bon," and gave the outsider a hard stare. Perfectly combed hair atop polished features with wide earnest eyes, so untouched and harmless and out of place, made him stupidly aggressive. "Listen you, Bon-chan here has a rule that no business is to be discussed or conducted at Onmyouden. I'm enjoying my night and intend to get wasted, maybe pick up a lady or three along the way, point being: I won't be leaving. I suggest that if you want to talk, you come back some other day."

"H-how about a catch up." Nozomu blurted out in a rapid string of words, "That's not against the rules is it?"

Kyo raised a dark brow, "I don't know you from Adam and you want to 'catch up'?"

"Yes." His harmless face and perfect hair bobbed up and down nervously.

"Here? In your…silk-lined suit, glossy leather shoes and pockets fill with valuables that our patrons are planning to snatch from you the moment you leave."

Nozomu swallowed, "Not ideally, no. But since you're not leaving, then I don't have much of a choice do I." The man moved boldly past the hostile stares to settle himself next to Kyo and smiled bravely. "If my cash is going to be taken, may as well use it voluntarily, right? Chief, drinks for all on the house!"

Suddenly, although predictably, Nozomu was welcomed with open arms.

"Sneaky."

"I have my ways. I was once upon a time from this area too."

"Hah." Kyo snorted in derision, "And now you are up and coming are you? Property Investment Shiina Group heir? Don't act surprised, we all know you. You snooping around the area looking for places to buy up and destroy?"

"Geez, you sound as condescending as my little sister. And no, I'm not…snooping. Believe it or not, until our early teens, we lived in the area."

"Well then, welcome home, thug," was Kyo's sardonic response.

They didn't 'catch up'. Kyo resumed brooding and left Nozomu awkwardly perched on the stool. After several drinks, Nozomu, who clearly couldn't hold his alcohol, dropped all pretence and fellow drinkers shuffled him about in boisterous enjoyment hoping to empty his pockets for a few more rounds of premium shots. The word of alcohol a volonté spread quickly, and soon enough, the Onmyouden reached maximum capacity and its barkeep absolutely delighted.

Bontenmaru chuckled, "I'm making my month with this guy. If this is the kind of client you bring in, you are forever free to discuss business here."

Watching pretty boy stumble around to drunkenly join crude chants was funny initially, then irritating the rest of the night. When he started to move toward the bunch of weeded misfits in the back corner, that was the last straw. Kyo intervened. "Alright, damn it. You idiots got your drinks, and a good two hours' worth of it too, now leave him alone. You," he grabbed a swaying Nozomu roughly by the arm, "don't you have some sense? Are you a college student on spring break? Go home."

"B-but…we hurvnt catch-caught uuup," came a garbled whine.

"What, you stayed here just so…" Kyo swore at this guy's stupidity: how was this Japan's most eligible bachelor, next in line to take over a family-run money-churning business? But damn him if that didn't make him even more curious as to the story behind this. It had to be desperate, whatever it was. "Go home. I've written my office address on your arm, we'll talk later."

Worried, Botenmaru watched his human chequebook stagger his way out of the shack. "Kyo I'm not sure he'll get out alive."

"Relax, he'll manage. You can be such a momma sometimes," Putting out his last cigarette, Kyo made for his coat. "I'm calling it a night anyway. See you around, Bon. Send my tab to the usual place."

Coast now clear, Omaeda wandered over to the half-filled glass Kyo left behind, "Ooh what a waste, can I finish it?"

Botenmaru smiled. "You wouldn't enjoy it – it's just melted ice. He's been on the same drink for the past few rounds. And he calls _me_ a 'momma'."

* * *

"I knew it. Hopeless." Kyo muttered. 'Home' was in the adjacent room to his 'office', and as he climbed the final steps to his floor and stepped onto the landing, he discovered a passed out Nozomu crumpled against the entrance. Resigned to the fact that his night had started and would end with babysitting, Kyo unlocked the door, and prodded, none too gently, Nozomu with a foot. "Bathroom: last door to the left."

Suddenly awake, Nozomu clamped a hand over his mouth and frantically crawled his way to the indicated location. Several minutes later, he came out pale as a ghost, slightly more steady on his feet, fumbling to button and tuck his originally pristine shirt.

"Give it up, Shiina. No one to impress here." Kyo handed him a glass of water which he swigged gratefully. "Slowly." He slowed. "Sit." He sat. "The hell were you thinking?"

"I…thought you would change your mind and we could talk. Then, I had one drink too many and I think…the taxi driver saw your address on my arm and brought me here… Please accept my apologies."

There was little point in embarrassing an already mortified businessman, and if anything Kyo preferred the dishevelled and exhausted look on his otherwise uptight guest.

Eyes squeezed shut in prayer that the wave of nausea subside, Nozomu heard shuffling around the room, paper being shifted, the light thunk and jingle of keys placed on the glass coffee table, then, across him, the distinctive creak of leather giving way under Kyo's weight.

"So," Kyo prompted after a while, "Let's not beat around the bush. Now that you've had your date with me, why has my idiot cousin sent you here?"

Indeed Kyoshiro had directed Nozomu to his cousin, the man who had once been hailed as one of Tokyo's greatest detectives, as infamously reckless as he was a hero, for assistance. Since his resignation from the criminal division of the Tokyo Police, Mibu Kyo, or the Edo Sweeper as the members of the underground knew him, took to working in the shadows of society, accepting jobs from the despairing and the helpless. No one asked why he'd left although typical rumours flew around about mental breakdowns, corruption, and a potential murder of a colleague. For a man like Nozomu, being seen with the likes of Kyo could feed the piranha frenzy of media for months.

But this was necessary for him, for his family…for her. He drew in a deep breath. "It's about my sister – I think she might be in trouble."

"Start from the beginning." Kyo took no notes, and felt his mind slip comfortably into the automatic filter his old profession had ingrained in him. Facts, key words, timeline and body language: the slumped shoulders, the constant fiddling of the glass lip, signs of distress on an otherwise controlled exterior.

"Yuya recently graduated from university, and is working as an art curator at the private foundation Lombard Arts Collective. She's brilliant, we're being told she is a prodigy in her field, plenty of philanthropists, European institutions and buyers are looking to take her on as a consultant. It's fantastic for her, she'll have a chance to travel, see the world…you know."

Nozomu seemed lost in thought, so Kyo nudged. "But she doesn't want to."

"No she doesn't. In fact, she doesn't even want to leave Japan. Her dream is to earn enough money to buy some lost cottage in the countryside, put up shop and make clay pots." Nozomu rubbed his temples, "Maybe she's joking. I never know with her."

So this was a story about a rebellious young Miss refusing to make millions in accordance with her family's wishes? It didn't feel like enough of a reason for why an heir to a large corporation, with enough wealth and power to sway institutions and tamper with anyone's career path, would travel to the dingiest part of town and risk tainting his and his family's reputation by seeking a rogue ex-cop's service.

So Kyo waited.

"Anyway. Since she was very little, Yuya has always stuck her nose in all sorts of trouble. Standing up against bullies for kids at school she didn't know, feeding starving baby birds with the very little food we were given by our father to the point that she fainted from undernourishment. In high school, she looked for a missing cat which landed her in those strange angry biker territory; at university she volunteered to be bait to catch a professor who had been making sexual advances and then blackmailing his students. There are so many of these I can't list them all for you, but I know she continues to do these things on the side at night. And they are getting more dangerous."

Great, Kyo thought crabbily, a little princess slash adrenaline junkie. More babysitting of the rich.

"Except this time, we think she may have gone too far. We think she's in trouble."

"We?"

"Me and our middle sister, Sakuya. Yuya is the youngest."

"And no one else knows."

"No."

"Right. So you think she's committed a crime?"

"I don't know… I think she's put herself in a situation that might force her to do so, or at the very least be associated with it. I don't know." Kyo didn't say anything long enough to make Nozomu nervous. "You know…I'm here to ask for your help, right?"

"Really, I thought you came to value my flat," came the deadpan reply. Kyo went silent for another moment and to Nozomu's relief appeared to be considering the matter. "Have you tried more… conventional services?"

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if that worked."

A fair point.

Kyo was intrigued by the element of surprise – he hadn't expected law-breaking to come in. As a jab of adrenaline coursed through him, a feeling he had not felt in ages, he decided: the Edo Sweeper was open for business. "Tell me about the matter she's looking into."

* * *

Yuya Shiina stared up at a three storey block of apartments, then double-checked the address against the details her diary. No mistake. With an hour and a half before the last night bus home, she had enough time to do some snooping around.

* * *

MS: I'm not sure how far I'll get with this one, but am rolling with it! It's been blocking me from the other fanfics, so quite glad I've gotten it out. Enjoy and R&R.


End file.
